


Tear Me Apart

by bitacrytic



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, BDSM, Break Up, Control, Facebook, M/M, Post-Break Up, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitacrytic/pseuds/bitacrytic
Summary: One phone call is all it takes for Jaskier’s whole world to come crumbling down.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone is what they always were... just in a modern setting

It's as bright as any other day and normally, Jaskier wouldn't care. But the sun feels extremely scorching now. Or maybe it isn't the sun. Maybe it isn't even anything to do with what's happening around him.

It might be the very simple fact that he's staring at his phone, wondering why, after four years, he has finally received one measly, useless " _like_ " on an old Facebook photo. It means nothing. It's supposed to mean nothing after all this time. He didn't go through everything just so he could spend the rest of his life stuck on tiny, thoughtless gestures such as this. Jaskier is a freaking star. He’s famous and a damn good musician. A _like_ on Facebook is astronomically inconsequential. 

Sighing and willfully forcing himself forward, Jaskier slides his phone into his back pocket just as it rings. Angrily, he takes it out and answers.

"WHAT!" he snaps into it.

"No 'hello'?" A calm, gruff voice asks, freezing Jaskier's entire being on the spot. For some reason, he finds himself unable to move. Or speak. "Jaskier?"

"Y-yes," he says breathlessly into the phone.

"Just got your number from Facebook."

Jaskier doesn't know what to say.

He doesn't even know if he's supposed to say anything or if he should just cut the call and move on. Maybe he should cut it. Toss the phone away and change his number. Maybe he should go far, far away and live where no one with access to Facebook would ever reach him. Maybe-

"I'll be coming home in a few days," the voice says. "I'd like to see you."

Jaskier's lips tremble as his hand clutches the phone.

"Jaskier? Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"Can I see you when I get back?"

It's a loaded question, Jaskier knows. There is no answer he'd give now... in this moment... that wouldn't come back to haunt him in the future.  
But all that just makes it seem like Jaskier ever had any choice in the matter. It’s a request, but with this man, it’s somehow not. It’s never been and Jaskier knows it.

"I'd like to see you, too," Jaskier says.

Because that’s all it takes. One phone call and Jaskier’s whole world comes crumbling down.


	2. Chapter 2

He isn't over-dressed.

  
It's a t-shirt and a tie. It is Friday, so it feels a bit much. But Jaskier hadn't left the house worried about his looks. If anything, he is more worried about how he smells. It's not bad. It's not the worst he's ever been. But he's still very conscious of it as he sits in the cafe, holding onto an empty cup.

"How have you been?" Geralt asks, bracing himself against the table as Jaskier finds himself leaning back without meaning to. It's not his fault. He's not exactly sure he's in control of his head. He does take comfort in the fact that there is no reaction from Geralt. No smirk. No acknowledgement of fear. Nothing.   
It unnerves Jaskier as much as it comforts him. Being able to read Geralt's cues always served Jaskier well and he's not sure if he's okay with being out in the cold like this.

But maybe he shouldn't care, Jaskier thinks as he feels Geralt's hand enclose his in what is supposed to be a show of intimacy. Jaskier is relieved to find that when he pulls away, Geralt doesn't fight. He doesn't. He just lets go and leans back.

"Ask me," Geralt says.

"Ask you what?" Jaskier knows what. He knows what Geralt is talking about, but he can't bring himself to look up into Geralt's face. Not when they are seated in such a secluded place. Not when anything could happen.

"How I survived four years without you," Geralt states simply.  
Jaskier tries, he really does. But in the end, he can't help the gulp that drops in his throat, aching to breathe at the absurdity of it all.

"You've always been resourceful. I'm sure you found a way."

"Yeah, well, I need you now," Geralt says, clasping his hands on the table. It is in that moment, as he finally looks up at Geralt, finally gives in to the urge just so he can verify what he's feeling, that Jaskier realizes that Geralt is _asking_ for his permission.

Which is ridiculous because they both know Geralt could have just waltzed right in and taken what he needed. This outing... all this wooing didn't need to happen. But here he was, head lifted towards Jaskier with a look on his face that Jaskier only ever saw reserved for everyone else but himself.

"That's why you're back."

"Yes," Geralt nods.

"Fine," Jaskier says getting to his feet as Geralt blinks in confusion. "If that's what you want, let's get it over with." _…so that you can leave_. 

_____

Jaskier leans against the toilet stall as Geralt follows him in. He tries to control his breathing so he wouldn't freak out because, DAMN IT! They're all alone.

The moment the door closes behind Geralt, he reaches for Jaskier with a desperation Jaskier has never seen, grabbing his neck in a bid to steal a kiss, but Jaskier stops him, turning his face away from Geralt.

"Jaskier-" he starts to say.

"You wanted to feed," Jaskier cuts in, pulling off his tie and shrugging his right shoulder out of his shirt. "Get on with it so I can go home."

Geralt purses his lips as if struggling to control himself. Because he knows that they are both aware that a few choice words and Jaskier would crumble like a wall of legos.

In the end, he leans down to Jaskier's shoulder, opens his mouth and takes a deep breath before he sinks right in.

"Hurrhh...ah!" Jaskier groans as his knees buckle beneath him. But before he can fall, strong arms grab him, keeping him up as Geralt digs into his shoulder even more. Jaskier can feel his vision whitening as everything around him blurs and doubles in on itself. It's a strange feeling. Jaskier doesn't know how to process it anymore. 

There was a time he'd have been tied up and too blissed out from sex to care that Geralt was draining his vision right out of him. Without the sex or preparation or anything to clear his mind and set him in the right headspace, Jaskier feels like he could die from the pain if Geralt doesn't stop.

As quickly as the thought enters his mind, Geralt pulls away from him, kicking the toilet seat shut as he turns just in time to dump Jaskier's body on it. All of Jaskier trembles from the crown of his head the tip of every extremity. Everything feels like it's on fire and Jaskier just wants to scream.

"I should have gotten you off first.”

"Just go," Jaskier says wearily.

"Jaskier there's something-"

"Leave!" Jaskier snaps, looking up at him. "Please."

They stare at each other for a few moments, with Jaskier’s blood Dripping down Geralt’s chin.

Just when he fears that Geralt will push his will and do something more to break down his walls, Geralt turns from him and leaves. If Jaskier had thought that would bring him some form of joy and relief, he couldn’t have been more wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

Yennefer is seated in Jaskier's living room when he gets home. The evil witch, she allows him enter and sigh at the relief of a peaceful night before she speaks up, causing him to squeal, jump and dump his groceries on the floor. Jaskier hates her a little bit more, but she's always known he never liked her so she doesn't even attempt to pretend to care.

"What do you want?" he asks as he frowns at the mushed bannas and thanks god for the rest of the bag that was saved.

"I've been hired by Bloom Records ."

"The economy must be terrible if you've agreed to be a fairy."

"It's good money, Jaskier."

"I remember you ranting on social media about how fairying for the creative industry is an afront to witchcraft."

"Things change."

"Yeah, not in my house. Get out."

Yennefer leans back against the sofa and puts her feet up on the center table... With. Her. Boots. On. And looks up at Jaskier with disdain.

"I don't think you have a choice here."

"I don't need a witch to give me inspiration."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"And I'm sure, in a show of transparency, you informed them of our history."

Yennefer clasped her hands in her laps and shrugged in innocnese.

"To what, are you reffering?"

Jaskier scoffs and walks over to the kitchen. He's really not in the mood to engage. All he wants to do is eat, shower and pass out. As he slides the packet of takeout into the microwave, Yennefer walks into the kitchen and steals one of his apples.

"We need to work together."

"I don't see how you thought that would work if I don't trust you."

"It was all just some big misunderstanding. I never did anything to you."

"Well, then, I suppose Geralt just woke up one day and decided to need my blood to survive, out of nowhere."

"It wasn't my fault that your boyfriend became a vampire."

_Boyfriend_ , Jaskier resists the urge to slam his fist against the counter.

"First of all, Geralt isn't my boyfriend-"

"Jaskier-"

"Second, he's not a vampire."

"I told you, like I told him, I didn't do it."

"I'm not having this argument for the millionth time. One would have thought that I'd never see you again, with him out of my life."

As the words leave his mouth, Jaskier remembers. He remembers recent hands on his body. New marks on his neck. He remembers new looks from those farmilier, soulful eyes. If he closes his eyes, he can swear Geralt's scent is all around him. Consuming him like it did years ago.

Even if Geralt in't in his life, Geralt is back.

Jaskier claps, laughs and walks away from Yennefer.

"Wow," he says. "That you could be this pathetic."

"Excuse me?"

"You've heard that Geralt is back in town and you've come here to what? Hang around till he shows up? Really?"

"That's not why I'm here."

"You took a job you hate to spend time with a man you hate even more, just so you can be around him when Geralt shows up." The microwave dings and Jaskier takes the pack out with a towel. "It's too bad for you. Because Geralt has gotten what he wants and gone."

_____

Jaskier is disappointed to wake up and find Yennefer has turned his study/studio/store room into a bed room. Her little suitcase is on the floor by the new bed that just mircaulously happened to be there. There's nothing else in the room but Jaskier's junk is now in the hallway.

"Why won't you leave?"

"I've already been paid, Jaskier."

"I don't need you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

_____

Jaskier's belief that he can ignore Yennefer soon proves difficult. 

It's not until his third date comes home with Jaskier, spotting a wilted erection, does it occur to Jaskier that he might have a problem on his hands. By this time, he's antsy and horny and tired of masturbating to memories. Because there's no way you're getting a hookup to blow you if he's bothered and embarrased by his penis. And Jaskier is so tired of it.

On the fourth try, Jaskier drags his date into a bathroom stall, both turned on and triggered by his recent meeting with Geralt. He tries to keep a clear mind but by the time he starts getting into it, by the time he's hitched against the wall, his pants hanging from his legs as he grunts his way to ectasy, Jaskier can't tell if his date is a brunett or a witcher with white, bleeched hair.

He goes home feeling more ragged than he'd been when he was starved. 

"... _still a whore... my whore_ ," Geralt's voice echoes all the way home. " _You'll do anything, won't you? You'll do anything for cock, my little one._ _"_

Jaskier fights the tears on the elevator ride up to his apartment, trembling as Geralt's words flow. He's helpless to stop it. Words that would have, at some point, sent him into gleeful joy, now cut too deep to heal.

As the door closes behind him, Yennefer peeps out from the coridor, a goading smile on her face.

"No date, today...?" she trails off, her expression going from cocky to concerned in seconds. "Jaskier. What happened?"

Jaskier shakes his head and pushes off the door, heading for his room. He can't take it anymore. He doesn't want her in his life and if she doesn't leave, things will only get worse.

"We can start tomorrow," he tells her.

"What?" she asked just before he slams his room door in her face.

_____

"Anything offlimits?" Yennefer asks, sitting opposite Jaskier as he lowers himself to the cushion on the ground.

"No," he says before his mind flashes to all the degrading things he's let Geralt say and do to him over the years. "Just avoid any memories with Geralt."

Yennefer frowns but purses her lips.

"What?" he askes.

"Nothing."

"You're doing something with your face. What is it?"

Her tongue peeks out as she eyes him, nervously.

"If you're looking for inspiration, the two easiest wells to draw from are love and pain. Geralt is one person who has casued you both, the most."

That's the choice. Live a little longer with Yennefer the menace or expose himself to her.

"Do what you must," he says, closing his eyes as she raises to her knees, murmuring quiet spells. She shuffles forward and places both hands on his temples as Jaskier tries to relax. 

A whole minute goes by where he's subjected to the smell of lavender and vanilla. An odd mix that is obviously from two different things. Shampoo and lotion or deoderant and shampoo. Jaskier isn't sure. But he finds that focusing on Yennefer's scent is pleasing. So he sits there for a little longer.

He doesn't know when it starts, but slowly, images begin to swipe through his conscience, sweeping past like frames on a monitor. Sometimes, they blur out, most times they hover before melting into the background.

But the, an image settles before him that's too clear to ignore. Geralt is talking to him but he can't hear the words. He doesn't need to. It's from the previous Friday. Geralt's hair's been cut short. It's four inches above his head but it's standing in one curved wave and it's beautiful. His eyes waver between yellow and grey, sometimes red and Jaskier knows that's more about what Jaskier was thinking when he was looking at Geralt, than about Geralt's actual color. 

Geralt's clothes were changing too. In Jaskier's mind, he liked to undress and dress Geralt for himself. He liked to imagine him with different eyes. He liked to switch Geralt around and play with his appearance. But for some reason, Jaskier never changed Geralt's hair.

Just as he was getting into it, the image disolved again and Geralt was standing behind Jaskier in the shower. Then Jaskier was lying in a blanket as Geralt fed him soup to help with his cold. Then they were having a fight. It wasn't a real fight. It never was. Jaskier never took Geralt's tantrums seriously. He could rage and toss the whole house and Jaskier would smile and move on because he knew Geralt would never hurt him or leave him.

Until he did.

The memory of Geralt's departure nearly surfaced but Jaskier cringed, forcing it away as Yennefer's presence wavered for the first time, reminding Jaskier that he wasn't alone. She was there. Seeing everything with him. She could see whatever she wanted but Jaskier didn't want to see _that_ at the moment so he moved on.

" _What do you want?"_ A dark-skinned man with a shaved head and face tattoos asked, sitting across from Jaskier. " _This is your last one. Use it wisely._ "

" _I want..." Jaskier hears himself say. "I want Geralt to need me more than anything._ "

There is a loud gasp as Jaskier is jolted into bright consiousness in the present. Yennefer gets up, staring down at him in unmasked fury.

"You did this," she accuses. 

"Excuse me?" Jaskier askes.

"I'd never seen anything like it before. No matter where I looked. I knew it wasnt me. I would never do something so cruel to someone I claimed to love. I'd tried to figure out what it was for years, but you did it."

"What did I do, exactly?" Jaskier asks standing as well, confused. "What are you accusing me of?"

"You're the one who asked for this. You sat there and told a genie to make Geralt need you," she says, full of fury. "And he cursed Geralt to be dependent on you and your blood."


End file.
